KATJA-LEE ELIAD
WORK SECTION
WHEREABOUTS


The Crossing Garden: How Many Souls For Your Flower
In Marseille, a plaque on Traverse Blancard recalls that Pierre Blancard (1741–1826), a French naval officer, introduced the first Chinese chrysanthemum to France in 1789. Like many goods of the time, these seeds traveled aboard ships also involved in the slave trade, embedding botanical circulation within the violent infrastructures of colonial exchange. Although these histories have largely been obscured by forgetting, the chrysanthemum, still blooms across Marseille and beyond. It endures as a living monument to this silent history, bound today to funerary rituals and the symbolism of immortality.

In Marseille, a plaque on Traverse Blancard recalls that Pierre Blancard (1741–1826), a French naval officer, introduced the first Chinese chrysanthemum to France in 1789. Like many goods of the time, these seeds traveled aboard ships also involved in the slave trade, embedding botanical circulation within the violent infrastructures of colonial exchange. Although these histories have largely been obscured by forgetting, the chrysanthemum, still blooms across Marseille and beyond. It endures as a living monument to this silent history, bound today to funerary rituals and the symbolism of immortality.
In The Crossing Garden, Katja Lee Eliad exposes the violence often erased in accounts of botanical acclimatization.
Here, seeds no longer appear as mere vestiges of a fixed commercial history, but as active vehicles of an ongoing process. In this sense, they may be understood, following Michael Marder’s essay The Sense of Seeds, or Seminal Events, as forms of life that continue to generate meaning and transformation on their own terms.
The exhibition can be understood as an attempt to unshackle the plant world. Where Western modernity has progressively assigned plants to the status of inert objects - decorative, uprooted, and fully subjected to logics of control - KLE enacts a conceptual shift by reinscribing the plant world within the field of the event. In doing so, seeds cease to be mere passive presences and instead become instances of agency: they rewaken personified, orienting their own becoming, and reconfiguring space according to their own dynamics and joyful imagination.
Valentina Iancu
In Marseille, a plaque on Traverse Blancard recalls that Pierre Blancard (1741–1826), a French naval officer, introduced the first Chinese chrysanthemum to France in 1789. Like many goods of the time, these seeds traveled aboard ships also involved in the slave trade, embedding botanical circulation within the violent infrastructures of colonial exchange. Although these histories have largely been obscured by forgetting, the chrysanthemum, still blooms across Marseille and beyond. It endures as a living monument to this silent history, bound today to funerary rituals and the symbolism of immortality.
In The Crossing Garden, Katja Lee Eliad exposes the violence often erased in accounts of botanical acclimatization.
Here, seeds no longer appear as mere vestiges of a fixed commercial history, but as active vehicles of an ongoing process. In this sense, they may be understood, following Michael Marder’s essay The Sense of Seeds, or Seminal Events, as forms of life that continue to generate meaning and transformation on their own terms.
The exhibition can be understood as an attempt to unshackle the plant world. Where Western modernity has progressively assigned plants to the status of inert objects - decorative, uprooted, and fully subjected to logics of control - KLE enacts a conceptual shift by reinscribing the plant world within the field of the event. In doing so, seeds cease to be mere passive presences and instead become instances of agency: they rewaken personified, orienting their own becoming, and reconfiguring space according to their own dynamics and joyful imagination.
Valentina Iancu

















